Consumer Guide:Dear Mr. President

Baby let's have a ficus leaf and a cranberry Snapple
before Bush do something crazy

THE COUP: Pick a Bigger Weapon (Epitaph)
Boots Riley's live-in-the-studio funk is as retro as his Afro, and
when Talib Kweli percusses next to him you'd think his flow was
straight out the Watts Prophets. So call him corny if his Marxist talk
makes you nervous. Fact is, the brother's some writer, with his own
Oaktown sound. Marxism fans should start with the two love songs:
"Ijustwannalayaroundalldayinbedwithyou" lays out the rationalization
of the capitalist workday, while the Silk E. feature
"BabyLet'sHaveABabyBeforeBushDoSomethin'Crazy" speaks for itself. Plus
the Chomskyite "Head (of State)" also has sex in it, the sponsored
"Ass-Breath Killers" will help cure your bootymouth, and "I Love
Boosters!" is merely the warmest of many shout-outs to a criminal
community he's too busy to join. Riley understands as well as any
songwriter in America how the black poor and other barely employeds
get by, and he also understands who's taking their money, and how. His
lesser songs would be dookie gold on an ordinary undie-rap album. And
he's no moralizer: "I'm here to laugh, love, fuck, and drink
liquor/And help the damn revolution come quicker." A

GHOSTFACE KILLAH: Fishscale (Def Jam)
With the crack trade making its hip-hop comeback, Ghost fashions a
trend record that ranks with any Biggie or Wu CD. Morally, it's a
retrospective--there's no attempt to convince us that he's still in
the game or wants to return. But neither will he countenance doubt
that he knows whereof he speaks. The stories are as vivid, brutal, and
thought-out as any noir, with details that both encompass and surpass
the wisdom of "pyrex scholars." This is a guy with a bald spot who
likes cranberry Snapple, Larry King Live, and women who work
for JetBlue. When he asks his boo to turn the flame down a little, he
says thank you. His high wail renders extreme anxiety beautiful. And
before the music settles into a powerfully souled and sampled
Clan-type groove, its screeching intensity has a Nation of
Millions feel. A PLUS

LOVE IS ALL: Nine Times That Same Song (What's Your Rupture?)
A minor, female-fronted Swedish band who may have something to tell us
about love when somebody posts the lyrics, but probably won't, and
yes, they sing in English, as in "I know we like the same kind of
cheese." What they can tell us about is the persistence of
punk. Unlike the Hives, who I bet they look down on, they're avant
formalists as opposed to pop formalists, twisting funky drumming and
weird guitar. Love them for getting excited about these time-honored
usages. A MINUS

PINK: I'm Not Dead (LaFace/Zomba)
With American Idol rampant, it's nice to have this emotional
hipster sticking her celebrity cred in the stupid world's face. She
overdoes the ballads, but what kind of teen idol could she be if she
didn't? She's got turf to claim before dropping "Dear Mr. President,"
which assumes, correctly, that Bush did coke and teens care about the
homeless. If there's a Bono song like that, the stupid world missed
it. And if stardom slips through Pink's cleavage, she's got an answer:
"You don't have to like me any more/I've got money now." No, she
doesn't mean it--that's just a smarter than usual woe-is-stardom
song. Much smarter than usual. A MINUS

PRINCE: 3121 (Universal)
It could be argued that music this masterful waives all claim to the
sound of surprise--until you pay attention. Sure "Love" and
"Satisfied" and "Fury" constitute a standard sequence, keyb funk to
torch r&b to u-got-the-rock--but only by genius standards. Sure he
overdubs all the time, but he risks letting the Other play bass and
drums on the over-under-sideways-down title tune--and then immediately
prefabs the cockeyed "Lolita" by himself. The dubiosities he induces
NPG fans to collect prove only that geniuses know who their friends
are. I'm back to suspecting that, at 47, the Abstemious One can keep
laying top-shelf stuff on the public for as long as he's in the
mood. Even if he gets on your nerves, treat him
nice. A MINUS

THE RAKES: Capture/Release (V2)
They're more Wire fans than Wire imitators--looser and louder,
comfortable with their middle-class roots in a time when identifying
middle class is just a fancier way to point out that you're
oppressed. Nevertheless, a fuller sound can be a problem for a band
that sounds something like Wire. Suddenly dynamic tension alone won't
do--you start aiming for rock, for songs, for anthems like "22 Grand
Job," more universal than the immortal "I Am the Fly" itself. Unless
you're way too big for dynamic tension, you won't nail all that
many. But you may get close, like on the U.S.-only "All Too Human."
And for sure you'll be dynamic. "T Bone"! "Terror!"! One after the
other! A MINUS

THE ROUGH GUIDE TO BHANGRA DANCE (World Music Network)
Punjabi-based dance music has accrued formula since Rough Guide's
first bhangra comp, and this one pumps identical hyperdrive from boy
group, Anglophone pop queen, and subcontinental elder. Only it's
really great hyperdrive--if that's the same hook again (it is,
right?), bring it on. Eventually, soft or folkloric sounds do enter
the mix, and how about that? The letdown is a respite if you happen to
be tired and does itself proud if you're not. More more
more. A MINUS

TOM ZÉ: Estudando O Pagode (Luaka Bop)
This exploration of a sexism fueled by the more blatant injustices of
class and race doesn't cohere, but what "rock opera" does? Anyway, Zé
prefers the term "operetta," and with his avant-garde credentials is
free to embrace episodic method. Much of the songs' philosophical
punch is lost in the superb translations, a shortfall that probably
reflects Zé's special interest in the male chauvinist samba subgenre
"pagode," the emotional resonances of which can't impact those who
haven't lived with them. But no other Brazilian composer defies
cultural boundaries so eloquently. Whether or not I absorb these
songs' meaning when I read along, at any level of attention I feel the
way they straddle pop and avant-garde, natural and mechanical, Brazil
and the rest of the world. Those not-quite-metallic scraping noises
you keep hearing? They come from one of Zé's inventions, an instrument
crafted from the leaf of the ficus trees that grow all over São
Paolo. You blow into it. A MINUS

Dud of the Month

JUVENILE: Reality Check (Atlantic)
Juvenile gives better interview than former N.O. labelmate Lil Wayne
and appears to be a better guy, but he's also one more bore whose idea
of entertainment is threatening to kill people. A few moments seem
real enough--not just "I Know You Know," in which he reminds his wife
that, actually, he doesn't fuck all those hoes he raps about, but the
street-mystique primer "Way I Be Leanin'." And even there Mike Jones,
Paul Wall, and Wacko provide welcome relief from the nasal,
constricted, humorless flow he's gotten on. Later, Fat Joe does the
same. I mean, really--Fat Joe? B MINUS

Honorable Mention

Willie Nelson: You Don't Know Me: The Songs of Cindy
Walker (Lost Highway): He owns the title tune now too ("Don't
Be Ashamed of Your Age," "Dusty Skies").

Stephen Yerkey: Metaneonatureboy (Echo): Sees all
the colors of the Cadillac at the Golden Gate Park Botanical Garden,
hitchhikes on the Stinson Beach road ("My Baby Love the Western
Violence," "Link Wray's Girlfriend").

Turkish Groove (Putumayo World Music): Sweet and
stretchy in its commercial version, just like the taffy (Bendeniz,
"Kirmizi Biber"; Nilgül, "Pis Pisla").

X: Live in Los Angeles (Shout! Factory):
The live album Billy Zoom and their songbook have long deserved ("Johny Hit and Run Paulene," "Beyond & Back").

The Rough Guide to Urban Latino (World Music
Network): A noisy mess from rock to ska to hip-hop, with catchy
politicos prominent and a German for spice (Zona Marginal, "No Mas";
Yerba Brava, "Sos Un Cheto").

Eef Barzelay: Bitter Honey (SpinArt): The best of
these songs are so perfectly put they thrive solo acoustic--but could
still use a band ("Ballad of Bitter Honey," "I Wasn't Really
Drunk").

The New Orleans Social Club: Sing Me Back Home
(Burgundy/Honey Darling): Mix winning sincerity with formal
nostalgia, much like the Cuban franchise holder (Cyrille Neville,
"This Is My Country"; John Boutt "Why").

MC Lars: The Graduate (Horris): Never mind the wimp
beats--if he were my son I'd be so proud ("Internet Relationships,"
"Download This Song").

Beanie Sigel: The B. Coming (Def Jam): Scared
straight enough to rap about being paranoid ("I Can't Go On This Way,"
"Feel It in the Air").